Taken
by walkingdeadfan
Summary: Alternate story line to what happens in "Better Angels." Randall escapes on his own, and takes a hostage with him. Can Daryl save her in time? Carol/Daryl.Rated T for heavy Language.
1. Chapter 1

_Taken_

**_A/N ~ This is an alternate story line to what happened in the episode "Better Angels" This is the first thoughts that came to my mind when I saw the sneak peak where Randall goes_ missing.**

* * *

><p>"<em>If you hurt her, I swear to god that I will rip your fucking brains out." <em>

Daryl hadn't spoken to Carol since the night that he screamed in her face. He didn't even know how to gather words to start a conversation with her, or if he even really wanted to. After all, what was he supposed to say? _"Hey Carol, I'm Sorry about the other night. I was really only suppressing the confusing emotions about you and Sophia that I don't know how to comprehend."_

_Ha. _If only it was that easy. It's not like he didn't try to talk to her, or try to grin to let her know that he didn't hate her. But as soon as he would look at her, with her wide eyes and the way that she would bite on the skin around her nails when she was worried, he could feel the frog in his throat, the way his hands would automatically clam up; the way that he wanted to cry. That definitely wasn't an option. Merle would give him a nice long ass beating if he knew that he even though about crying. Daryl decided that it was better for everyone if they ended any relationship that they ever had; even though he knew that was far from the truth.

"Daryl."

"Fuck." Daryl curses under his breath when he hears his name. He knows right off the bat who it is. The way she had said his name always made his heart skip a beat. "What do you want?" He turns to look at her, and he can already feel his heart breaking. She looks like she hasn't slept in days. Her eyes and nose are red from crying, and her hair is graying faster every day. He's trying so hard not to hug her right now. "I'm busy right now." He really wasn't all that busy; he had spent all morning looking for the gun he had misplaced; he was sure that it was in the satchel of his motorcycle. He has just spent the last five minutes leaning against the truck outside of the house, mindlessly thinking about Carol.

"I just want you to talk to me again." She says, hugging her arms against her chest. She's been thinking about how she wanted to approach him all morning, and now that she's face to face with him she can barely think at all. She's quiet, but when he doesn't say anything, she tries to go on. "You can't pull away like this, please." She cocks her head to the side when he looks down, reaching her hand to her mouth like she always does.

"Why? Because you ain't want to be alone? Because you lost everyone and you want someone to pick up the pieces?" He says, and he's trying hard to sound as cold as possible. "No thanks, I really could care less." He scoffs, looking up at her. "Everyone that gets close to you seems to die anyway." He's looking into her eyes, but when that last comment hits her he looks away fast. She's crying already, he can tell. Neither one of them says anything, and Daryl cringes every time she lets out a shaky breath. He knows that she's better off without him; he just has to convince her.

"That's-, Daryl I-" She says, pressing her fingers into her forearms to keep from shaking. She can't get her thoughts together. "Why are you pulling away like this?"

"Are you fucking deaf, lady?" Daryl says, his voice heightening. "Get away." She takes a step back, her mouth dropping open.

"Daryl,"

"Get!" His head lunges forward like a chicken, and she lets out a loud cry before she turns and stumbles in the opposite direction.

"Shit," Daryl shakes his head, because everything in his mind wants him to run after her. To tell her that he needs her as much as she needs him. He's not even sure why he is pulling away. Maybe because when he looks at Carol he thinks of Sophia. Maybe because he knows that when he cares about a person that they are never around for long. Maybe because he knows that Carol deserves so much more.

* * *

><p>"Everyone get in the house!" Rick screams, looking into the empty shed that once occupied Randall. Once Rick says it panic ensues. They look at each other with wide eyes, voicing their opinions all at once. "Daryl, Shane and Glen. Let's go!" He says, and they all nod with reassurance. "T-dog, can you get everyone in the house and make sure they don't leave?"<p>

T-dog nods before he turns around, "Everyone let's get!" He says, and he doesn't have to speak again before everyone is grabbing one another, running back to the house.

Rick is explaining to Daryl, Shane, and Glen that they need to split up and find Randall when Lori lets out a scared "Wait!" The group slows to a stop and Lori looks back to Rick with a scared expression. "Where's Carol?"

Daryl can feel every single bone in his body tighten up. His eyes widen, Sweat forms on his brow, and he tightens his grip on his cross bow. Carol never came back after she ran off today. She's out there, with the fugitive that they almost killed that night.

"God Dammit!" Daryl curses loud enough for it to echo. He is gone right after that, high speed towards to forest. Nothing and no one else matters to him. If something happens to Carol…

He can't even finish the sentence.

Daryl isn't sure where he is running. The trees all look the same, and Daryl could easily stop and use his tracking skills to find out exactly where she is; But his mind his racing to hard and all he can do is run. Run faster than he thinks he ever has. Nothing can happen to her, not Carol. He can't lose her. Daryl almost laughs when that thought crosses his mind. He spent all morning trying to push her away, and now he cringes at the thought of losing her.

"Carol?"

"Carol!"

"God Dammit, Carol!"

He stops. Daryl stands in the middle of the maze of trees, resting his hands on his knees for a moment, letting out heavy breaths as he tries to compose his thoughts. Maybe Carol hadn't been in any danger after all, and Rick was out looking for Daryl to let him know that Carol had just been out by the creek or something. She was perfectly fine, and Daryl had jumped to conclusions. That would be perfe-

"Daryl!"

It takes a minute for Daryl to process the scream she just heard. He stands there for a moment, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping before he realizes that it's her. A struggled, tortured scream that echoed through the trees, and Daryl can feel a chill run through his entire body, down to his muddy cowboy boots. She called his name.

"Fuck!" Daryl's running, and he forgets that he is even tired. He forgot about of things; about his anger, about his pain, about the front he had been trying to put up all this time.

Then he was there, and Randall had her in his arms before he could shoot the little fucker down. They stood in a small clearing in the woods, empty trees surrounding them. She's shaking, her hands down by her sides, and she clenches her eyes shut when she can feel his breath in her ears. She's letting out little squeals that kill Daryl every time Randall even flinches. Randall is holding a surprisingly sharp piece of wood that he must of came across in the woods to Carol's neck, and Daryl can't decide if the look on his face is despicable or confused. Daryl doesn't even know what he intends of doing, if anything, but all that runs through Daryl's mind is the story Randall had told him about the teenage girls when he was beating him up.

"If you hurt her, I swear to god that I will rip your fucking brains out." Daryl says, trying his hardest to sound mean even though he is scared to death. "Toss her over here right now, and I ain't gonna kill you." He says, focusing his crossbow right between the son-of-a–bitch's eyes. "Well, not yet."

"Why?" Randall spits at Daryl. "Ya'll hit me, trapped me, and you almost killed me last night. You ain't deserve to get away without paying for that." He says, and Carol lets out another squeal when he presses the sharp end of the branch further against her skin. "I ain't gonna let ya'll get away after y'all did me wrong."

"Daryl…" She manages to mumble, and just like always, the way she says his name makes his hard skip a beat.

"I will kill you," Daryl threatens. "And I'm pretty damn sure that my arrows are faster than your wimpy ass little stick."

Randall smiles. "Well, I guess we'll have to see."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N~ I am soooo sorry I never updated this story! aha this is pretty short, i'm just trying to get back into things. I hope you guys like it! I have a feeling this story is gonna be pretty dark, so get ready! **

What the fuck just happened?

The last thing Daryl can remember was holding up his cross bow to a wimpy ass little kid that had Carol in a head lock. Now all Daryl can think about is how bad his head hurts, how hot the room he's in is, and where the fuck he is in the first place. First he reaches his fingers to the back of his head, a bump the size of a baseball is raw to the touch. He tries to press his hands into his tired eyes, but is surprised when he discovers he can't move his right hand. He pulls against the barrier, realizing the familiar feeling of a hand cuff. Some one is seriously going to wish there dead in a few minutes. It's dark, and Daryl can only see the thin line of sunlight peeking through the bottom of a door across the room. The floor is smooth, reminding him of a gymnasium. He reaches out with his free hand, but he can't find anything. It's only when Daryl takes a moment to breath when he hears someone else's. it's quiet, inconsistent breaths from across the room, and Daryl immediately thinks of Carol. He wants to call out to her, ask her if she's okay, but the door creeks open before he gets a chance.

"Howdy." Randall limps through the door, his hands on his hips, his smile as smug as can get. Daryl immediately tries to stand up, hit him good right in the jaw. His hand cuff scrapes against his wrist, pulling him back to the ground. "Like how it feels?"

"You ain't nothing but a piece of chicken shit!" Daryl exclaims, still trying to reach Randall. "I'mma kick your ass!" Randall just laughs, shifting his eyes over to the woman in the corner. She's tied up with a rope, a bloody gash on the side of her head. Her eyes are hovering in the back of her head, breathing sharp and scary. She crying. He's about to call out to her, but decides to scream some foul words at Randall instead.

Randall gets closer to Daryl, ready to spit at him in the face, but Daryl reaches out, clawing him with his free hand. "Shit!" Randall takes a few steps back, cupping the bloody scratches. He's about to lunge for Daryl, but a voice calls him away.

"Dammit Merle, I told you we should' a cuffed both hands."

_Merle? _

_No. _

_Fuck no. _

He walks in like he's Jesus walking on water, his hulky boots clacking against the floor, his matching vest framing his heavy shoulders. He's laughing, and that was always way worst than when he looked mad. Daryl's eyes immediately are drawn down to the stump at the end of his wrist, wrapped in a dark bandana. "Hey there baby brother!" His face, his voice, the stump, his laugh. It all comes flooding back and Daryl wants to vomit. He can't think straight, he can't even find words to say. Sorry I left you to die? "Aw, you ain't to happy to see me, huh darlin'?" Merle bends down fast, cupping Daryl's face with his only hand. "Nice to see ya again." He smiles wide in Daryl's face, a unsettling chuckling squeezing through his teeth.

"Merle." Words finally escape from Daryl's lips as soon as Merle had tossed him to the side. Merle looks down at him now, and Daryl can remember all the time he had looked at him that way. "I tried lookin' for you. We looked all over." He says, reasoning with the only person he ever had to explain himself to.

"Fuck that," Merle laughs. "You was happy I was gone! You got to become 'part of the group', right? Hangin' around with all the normal happy people, and they ain't even know the person you really was. The horrible things you did. They wouldn't step within thirty feet of you if they knew the little piece of shit you really are. They ain't your family, brother. No one would want a family like you." Merle bursts out laughing, his neck bending backwards. "You even gotch'a a little girlfriend." He hands Daryl a disturbing wink before he's suddenly at Carol's side, brushing against her cheek with his fingers.

"Merle!" Daryl tries to call him back. "Let's keep the bitch out of this." He says, and Merle barley even recognizes he said anything.

"Ain't you one pretty peach." Merle slurs, licking his teeth as Carol blinks a few times, realizing the reality of the situation. "Aw, she's shaking!" Merle laughs, suddenly placing his hand at the curve of her upper thigh, his thumb caressing it up and down. The scene causes Daryl to pull at his hand cuffs, the metal edges scratching against his skin, It's dumb that this little piece of metal is keeping him away from his freedom, and Daryl wanders if this is what Merle felt like up on this roof. It's payback.

"Daryl!" Carol glances over it him, her eyes suddenly alert and ready, her neck stretching as far away from Merle as possible. The way she looks at him kills Daryl, and he pulls as hard as he can, expecting to suddenly be free. Sweat beads down her neck, and she's whimpering like a puppy and he can't even deal with the thought of not being able to protect her.

"Don't worry." Daryl says, as quiet as he possibly can because he knows Merle will throw it right back in his face.

"Aw, now who coulda done this to ya?" Merle asks, pouting his lips as he recalls the bloody gash against Carol's head. "We can't have you lookin' like this now, can we?" Merle takes a glance at Daryl before he turns to randall. "Take our gorgeous guest here to get freshened up."

Randall obey's like a dog, Quickly forcing Carol to her feet. She squirming and screaming and Daryl's rubbing his wrist raw trying to escape from his cuff. He had never felt like this before. The helpess, lonely feeling as he was being forced away from him. The empty, pathetic feeling that Daryl never let himself feel. He never cared enough to protect anyone. And now the one person he bothered keeping an eye on was in trouble, and there was nothing he could do about it. "Daryl! Daryl!" She screamed, Her voice desperate and horse and Daryl can't even call back to her to tell her it's going to be okay.

"_Daryl!" _

_She's gone then. The door is shut and the only thing Daryl can recall is the frame of an angry brother towering over him. _

"_I think it's time for some brother bonding time." _


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry this is sooo short guys, i'm just getting everything set up. Don't forget to review!(:**

Merle's beatings were nothing new to Daryl. Even after months apart, Daryl still knew exactly where his favorite spots were, when he liked to take breaks, and at what moments he liked to mumble nasty words. At this point Daryl could stop him if he wanted too. Sure as hell he wanted too. He wanted to kick that bastards ass; But the sight of his face, his eyes, his sinister smirk had led Daryl to take every single punch. Just about the time Daryl thought merle was finished, Merle came down to him one more time.

He unlocked his handcuff. Daryl wiped the blood off of his mouth, forced himself to his feet, and looked into his brothers eyes. "We was coming back for ya." Daryl said, his voice quiet.  
>"All ya had to do was wait." Merle looked like Merle. The same old Merle he always remembered. Well, shy of one important part. He laughed the same, Hit the same, talked the same. Daryl couldn't decide if he was relieved or terrified.<p>

Merle let out a loud chuckle, throwing his head back before landing his only hand heavy on Daryl shoulder, and Daryl tried his hardest not the wince. "Fuck it." Merle shrugged, smiling with his gaping teeth. "Come meet the brothers." He handed Daryl an uneasy wink as Merle made his way out of the tent, followed by an unsatisfied Daryl.

What? Nothing was ever that easy with Merle. Any time you pissed him off, Merle wouldn't let you hear the end of it until you were kissing his feet begging his forgiveness. Merle had to be sure you learned your lesson, and one beating was the kind of the thing that Merle did when you ate the last of the milk before school, not when you left him for dead on a roof during a zombie apocalypse. Merle could not be trusted.

"Hey boys!" Merle shouted as he pushed open the tent, his arms rising up, his beer belly shooting forward. The sun blinded Daryl, and after he adjusted himself to light he looked around. He had no idea where the fuck they were. Tents were set up in a circle in the middle of a dirt field, lawn chairs and car seats set up around fire pits. Men lingered around the camp. Most were middle aged men, a few older like Merle. Randall was definitely the youngest. He must have had no idea what he was getting himself into. Most of the men were sitting; eating, cleaning their weapons, or talking to one other. "Looks like we got ourselves a new brother! Be nice, this one's actually my brother; Even if he does look like a pussy." Merle laughs loud, and a few of the men look up and nod, but many act as if nothing had happened.

The camp looks pretty normal by Daryl until he finds his eyes reaching to the women. They all sit in a line, anything barley clothing them. Heads down, eyes closed. They look sick, empty, dead. There dead eyes and trembling bodies make Daryl's stomach drop.

"Hey bitch." Daryl's eyes move over whenever he hears one of the men. Middle aged, With brown hair and dark skin. He wears ripped jeans and a dirty t-shirt, with legs propped up on a chair, hands behind his head. "Water."

Without another word, one of the women stand. She's pale with dark hair, even skinnier than Carol. She wearing a white bra and a pair of khaki shorts only, and Daryl can see the ribs poking out of her body. She gets him the water, and sits right back down. A servant, a slave. These women have been tortured into servitude.

"Like it?" Merle nudges Daryl's stomach. "Bitches serving the men. Just the way it should be." Daryl doesn't speak. Merle had always been crude to women when they were teenagers. He was the biggest pig of the school; a girl wouldn't get within ten feet of him. But this? Merle takes a few more steps forward, finding his way into the middle of the camp. "Also, we got ourselves a new Bitch!" This announcement stirs excitement. The boys of the group drop what they are doing, rising to their feet, laughter in the air.

"What does she look like?"

"She better have a tight ass."

"I love long hair."

"I hope she's a screamer."

Comments fill the air, and Daryl can feel the vomit rising in his mouth. He's not sure he's ever met so many scumbags in one place. And what's worse, Merle fits right in. "Relax guys, the main course awaits us." Merle turns to a tent behind the row of Women. It's small and plain, like any other. "Yo, Randy! Bring the lovely lady out."

Suddenly she trips into camp. Most of her clothes stripped off of her, tears uncontrollably running down her face. A fresh red mark painted across her cheek. She hugged her elbows, her ankles shaking and Daryl thinks she might faint. This can't be happening.

Anything but this.

Anyone but Carol.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **Hey guys. This chapter was soo hard for me to write, but I hope you guys enjoy it. **

**WARNING! This chapter includes sexual and abusive subject matter, so please be cautious reading. **

"Daryl?"

Carol stood in the middle of men, her shirt stripped off her, her nude bra and forearms concealing her. The tears that stained her freckled face weren't new, but Daryl's eyes narrowed at the red mark across her right eye. Her hair was a mess, her ankles close to buckling and she looked at Daryl. She didn't look at the men growling at her feet, she wasn't looking at the captured women, tortured and raped. She was looking at Daryl; the one person she always thought could save her.

_But I don't know what to do. _

Daryl can feel shallow breaths escaping from his chapped lips, a heartbeat so fast he thinks he might explode, and he can feel her eyes burning into him. If he tried to stop Merle and his group from hurting Carol, they could both be dead in a matter of minutes. Daryl's cross boy was no were to be found, and even with his favorite weapon, it would be damn near impossible to get out of there alive, especially with a useless Carol at his hip.

"Hell, Darylina, what'cha waiting for?" Merle's familiar voice pulls Daryl from his thoughts, his eyes shooting up to the brother that he had never liked, but stuck with because they were family, and they wanted to survive. "You brought the bitch, only fair you get the first crack at her."

It all happened so fast. She drops her arms when she notices her walking towards her, an expression of relief mixed with confusion in her eyes. "Daryl?" She questions, more than once and Daryl can barely hear her because he's telling himself this is what he has to do. This is how they both get out alive.

He walks to her with a strut that Carol almost can't remember, and when he latches onto her wrist she can feel the fear in her body. It's a tight, cold grip that hurts and he yanks her to him, his eyes downcast and hollow and she falls right into him. She can barely catch him whisper "I'm sorry," before he latches his lips onto hers.

In different context, this moment would be magical for Carol. His kiss is hard and passionate and nothing like she had imagined. She can feel his tongue slither against her white teeth, asking for permission and she grants it with an open mouth, her eyes fluttering closed, blush forming against her temples, and for a second she forgot what was happening

It's when Daryl forces her legs apart with his hand that she realizes it. Was he one of them now? Could he have changed so fast? Would he really hurt her like this? She stands shaking, her mind in shock as his lips find its way down the nape of her neck, all the way to her chest. His heavy fingers flutter against the most sensitive area through her shorts, and she is overwhelmed with pain and fear and she feels suddenly alone and violated by the person she had thought she trusted the most.

"Daryl.." she struggles to let the words escape her lips, and it's not long after that when he tosses her aside. She takes a few unbalanced steps, falling to her knees.

"The bitch is all yours." Carol can hear Daryl mutter and he wipes mouth with the back of his hand, and Carol can't even look at him because Merle's hand his against her shoulder, pushing her into the dirt and suddenly there is laughing and cheering and she almost can't hear her own screams.

"Stop it! Please, stop it!"

The pleas for helps echo in Daryl's ears as he scans the camp, to busy trying to find out how to escape to think about how disgusted he is with himself. His eyes fall on a motorcycle, almost identical to the one he has back at camp. No figures Merle would get his hands on his favorite ride. He runs to it, getting his hands into the satchel at the side, pulling out a pistol. Nothing fancy, but there wasn't enough time to go gun shopping.

There is a man on top of Carol, his legs jamming her legs far apart, his hands gripped against her now bare breasts. She screams aloud when his excited eyes form into dead ones and it takes a moment to realize he had been shot. He lands lifeless on top of her, red seeping out of the side of his head.

"What the fuck?" Merle says aloud, and nearly everyone's gaze finds its way to a pissed off guy with a gun riding straight to them. Shots are fired, and few men falls to the ground before the group dissembles, diving to safety or to retrieve their weapons. "Hell no, Baby brother!" Merle shouts at Daryl, making a desperate leap for a weapon of any kind.

Carol had just managed to push the dead man off of her, pulling her bra back to her chest as Daryl picked her up in one heroic swoop, and there screaming and firing fading in the back and neither one of them take a glance back.

* * *

><p>By the time Daryl thinks its safe enough to stop, it's already dark. Carol tumbles off the bike before Daryl stops it all the way, her wobbly feet taking a few staggered steps in the dark woods, and she stops when her hands find a tree trunk that she can lean against. It's silent for a moment, the only thing in the air the sound of Carol's shaking breath and Daryl can barely take it.<p>

"Carol," He mumbles, taking a few steps forward and he notices the fear in her dark eyes. He is taken back a bit, planting his feet into the ground and he can't help but think that she is looking at him like she would look at Merle. Like a monster, and Daryl can feel his heart drop as he wanders if he would have fit well with that group too. "Carol, listen to me." He protests. "I had too, it was the only way we could both of gotten out of there without getting hurt."

"Without getting hurt?" Carol speaks up, her voice more angry than anything and Daryl can feel himself take a step back. He can hear her crying as he tries to make out her words. "I have never been so hurt."

It's dark and Daryl can't see her, but he imagines she's pushed herself up against the tree, as far away from Daryl has she can get. "Okay, I'm sorry." He says, and Carol recalls it's only the second time he's ever apologized to her. "I'm so sorry." Carol hears Daryl's voice crack, and for a moment she wonders if he is holding back tears. "I could never do something like that to you. You have to understand…" His voice trails off and he clears his throat, running his hands against his eyes to his mouth. "It ain't safe to be drvin' at night. We will have to get back to camp in the morning." Daryl quickly removes his favorite Angel winged jean vest, reaching it out to Carol. "Here; you must be freezin'. Take it." He can see her shift away from the tree, but she doesn't accept his jacket and she hears as he drops it on the ground before he walks back to the bike, leaning against in on the ground. "I couldn't stand to watch em' do that to you. I couldn't stand doing that to you." He says, half to himself and Carol lets out a quiet cry.

The night was well underway when Carol finally accepts the jacket, and it feels good against her broken body in every way. She doesn't sleep because when she closes her eyes she see's those disgusting pigs on her and her legs and stomach quake with pain and she knows Daryl isn't sleeping either. When does he ever? The words he had spoken last had rung in her brain, her shaking fingers buried against her eyes and she knows he didn't mean to hurt her, to provoke other to hurt her. He was trying to save her.

She gets up from the tree a few feet away, finding her way to him and her hand is soft against Daryl's shoulder and he doesn't even flinch when she lays at the ground next to him, a thin space of air betweens their bodies and Carol can't decided if she wants it there or not. She can hear a heavy breath escape from her lips as Daryl shifts next to her, his arms making their way gently across her stomach, and he hesitantly intertwines his fingers with her shaky ones. She sighs. This is him, the Daryl she knows. Not the monsters that had held of her earlier today. She clasps her hands into his, pushing her body back against him and she feels perfect with him there.

Perfect.


End file.
